


Home Repair and the Dangers of Derek's Underarms

by gladucame, vkdemon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, axillophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 17:10:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladucame/pseuds/gladucame, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vkdemon/pseuds/vkdemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rebuilding the Hale house as a reason for eternal sexual frustration of the Stiles variety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Repair and the Dangers of Derek's Underarms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jinxy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinxy/gifts).



> Writen for the Wolf Pack Charity. We’re so late with this. Not even fashionably late; we’re Nicki Minaj late and really sorry for that.

_Dear Diary aka iPhone aka notepad app aka MY SANITY,_

_Derek was shirtless again today. Just walking around like nobody's business without a care, flaunting his damned self. He looks airbrushed. Like I know how all the celebrities do it now. There is no Photoshop, just Werewolf genes. Like Holy Hell, how is this fair! He looks delectable, like that drop of sweat that wrapped around his raised bicep and down his armpit was there as an invitation, begging me to... Crap, hardon. Again. Eighth freaking time since 10am. He's bad for my brain. Seriously, I want to jack off right here in the damned house and just thinking about his scent. Like, dude, this was a stupid idea. The whole thing was stupid and I blame Peter. Seriously. if prissy sassy-wolf had been fine dealing with a hose in the backyard being called 'working plumbing'..._

_Oh... I forgot to tell you, oh holder of all my secrets. We are rebuilding the Hale house. while everyone else gets to have summer vacation in Maui (Fuck you Jackson! Wait until you find the racoon I left to die in your car. HA!) we get to rebuild the Hale house as a liveable structure. Yippee... OH! I smell lunch! LATERZ_

Stiles closed his iPhone and jumped off the wide porch faster than the supposed superpowered betas. "FOOD! FEED THE STILES!"

***

His house started resembling a house.

Sometimes, before a new day of work had the chance to start, Derek would stand in front of the structure and map out with his eyes every detail that was different than last day. Ridiculous how fast work can go with a help from couple ambitious betas and one hyperactive smartass. The house was becoming whole again, but instead of whooping from happiness, Derek felt the urge to howl for his lost pack.

The ruin of his house had became a scar on his consciousness, a continuous reminder of Those Who Left. Every shattered window screamed about revenge and need to hunt down, retaliate, kill, wallow.

Now the walls were being fixed and painted in pastel colors. The shattered glass collected and replaced with multi colored facets that let in sunshine in all colors of the rainbow. Derek felt as if with every meter of built up structures something inside him crumbled into wreckage. Perhaps something worth letting go.

He looked at his watch. Soon enough the enormous growling atrocity, known locally as Stilinski’s jeep would be heard on the road leading to the Hale mansion, bringing the group of teenagers back into his life. The betas were singing something horrifically off-tune and Stiles had decided to take up the high-notes in his falsetto. 

"AHWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Werewolves of London!" Stiles howled, and grabbed two buckets of plaster, and marched right up to Derek. "There's a whole pile of lumber just for the Alpha."

Derek rolled his eyes but the mirth in the guy’s voice was infecting him already with unwelcomed joy. (Can no one brood in peace around here?) He eyed the bucket and nodded at the side of the building. “That goes at the north wall. I was going to change the door to the garden, the frame somehow came off.”

"Somehow? Keep that super strength in check, Hulk." Stiles teased and shoved a bucket at Derek's chest. No way was he carrying both by himself when Derek had a perfectly good working arms. Perfectly sculpted arms. "We'll fix it. Like everything else."

“Yeah...” Derek drifted off. Like everything else. He grabbed both of the buckets from Stiles’ grip. “I’m going to fix this in the back. Get to work.” The Alpha growled at his betas and turned his back at them.

Stiles was going to be alone with Derek. This happened way more than he expected. He would almost think Derek was planning it. Of course that would involve Derek being interested. It was unlikely but it was still nice to imagine. And to manipulate. "Pretty hot right now..."

Derek put the buckets down and stared at the exit he accidently destroyed in a spurt of anger. “Then don’t stay up until dawn next time so you could get here earlier.” He murmured a response to the man’s grumbling. Who was still here. Derek raised an eyebrow. Seemed like Stiles decided to work/trip over his feet with him again.

"Hey. No digs at my sleep schedule. I don't get a whole lot of me-time lately. I'm so behind on leveling my druid it's pathetic." So much for his attempt to get Derek's shirt off. Stiles whistled at the destroyed door. "So it just fell off right?"

“Just fell off. I have no idea how.” Derek managed the smallest of smiles. He sighed and scratched his neck thinking through the task. They should probably deconstruct what little was left of the frame and nail new planks. He rolled his shoulders and pick up the hammer with a hack on the other side. The sharp ends tugged at the remains of the hinges.

"Wouldn't it be easier to do that with less clothing?" Stiles suggested oh so innocently. 

Derek puckered his lips to keep them from spreading in a grin. “No, I don’t think so. Why?” He crooked a perfect eyebrow at the boy, raising his arms to take off the higher hinge.

"Just making a suggestion." Stiles' lower lip jutted out. "This is my only entertainment since Erica took away my ipod for playing the wrong music. It's looking at you shirtless or I'm going to have to sing."

“Well, we can’t let that happen, can we?” Derek dropped the tool on the ground and grabbed the fringe of his shirt. He pulled it up slowly letting his muscles shift and bulge under the material until it came off. Between amusement and irritation at the man he forgot to welter in self pity.

Fucking gorgeous. There was no other word for Derek's body. His stomach was flat with a teasing line of hair right under his belly button. His obliques on his side were shifting as his arms raised. Stiles tried to keep a soft groan when the fabric revealed the dark short hair right at the joint of his arm. Stiles licked his lips and he zoomed in on the area. He wondered if the hair was just short enough to bury his nose into. They hadn't been working too long yet so his skin was probably just salty enough for Stiles to lave with his tongue. He probably should be paying attention to whatever Derek was trying to say. Seriously how was he supposed to listen with all that gorgeous man in front of... 

"Aww. You put your arms down." Stiles pouted.

“Now, that’s the way to make you focus.” Derek snorted and grabbed his hack. “I said, get to work. That’s the point of being here, right?”

"Mean. Unnecessary cruelty. Human abuse." Stiles grumbled and moved in to help Derek. "I would take of my shirt in revenge, but I don't want to blind you with the sun glinting off my skin."

Derek smiled holding up a board and pinning it to the top of the exit. “Werewolves have a good sense of sight,” he said in an undertone, nearly pleadingly.

"Is that encouragement?" Stiles slid his fingers under his shirt edge to threaten.

Derek’s hands stopped in their work. He turned his head, a tiny flicker of a tongue wetted his lips. He shook himself off quickly, turning back to the board. “I dunno. You might want to take off those thick jeans you have first.”

Stiles' mouth dropped open. Had Derek just.... "You just told me to take off my pants. REALLY? With the betas on the other side of the house? I mean I would love to but... Really?"

Derek rolled his eyes. “I’m just saying. It’s hot. The weather I mean, not...uh.” He grunted in annoyance over the difficult communication with the boy.

"Not that you wanted to get in my pants?" Stiles offered. Stiles never was good at letting things lie. "It's cool. Not like... yeah, no, I didn't really think you wanted to be... soooo I should just go... check on the betas."

“Stiles.”

"I should just..." Stiles licked over his lips feeling all kinds of awkward. "go.."

Derek’s shoulders sagged, he lowered his arms, listlessly staring at the ground. He didn’t mean to upset the man, god, why does everything about him have to be so frustratingly complicated. He never should have let his inner creeper out around Stiles. “Then go. You weren’t much of a help anyway.” The broad man shrugged, keeping his back turned toward Stiles.

"You know what, I'll just go home then." Stiles growled at the asshole of an Alpha. Was that really necessary? Stiles was helping! Who got the freaking lumber and plaster? Stiles! Who had the badass truck to haul said lumber and plaster and betas? Stiles! Who was following the alpha around stopping him from reversing their work in a fit of angsty rage? Stiles freaking Stilinski!

Stiles stormed from the side of the house toward his now unloaded jeep. 

~~~

_Dear Diary aka laptop aka wordpad aka MY ONLY FRIEND,_

_I hate Derek. I hate his stupid face. I hate his stupid chest. I hate his stupid pretty eyes. He's a dickhead. And mean. And so what was so wrong with me flirting? I know I perved out over his armpits and pecs, but come on. He is too hot for my sanity. But no, he can't just let me be. He has to make sure I know that he thinks I'm useless. No help at all._

_Fuck him. I put up with so much! Not to mention saving his life!_

_He's a dickhead and I don't know why I like him. I just refuse to deal with this. I'm not going tomorrow!_

Stiles leaned back in his chair and shouted just incase any wolves were listening. "NOT COMING BACK! YOU CAN BUILD WITH YOUR SHIRT ON WITHOUT STILES."

Derek winced in pain and grabbed both sides of his head. He had been listening in from the trees around Stiles’ house, straining his hearing to understand what the man was muttering over the sound of furiously tapping keyboard. The shout sounded like a cannon for his sensitive ears. The Alpha groaned and shook his head. Three jumps later he was balancing on the sill outside of Stiles’ window.

Stiles heard the scrape of Derek feet outside his window. He put both hands behind his head and leaned all the way back in the chair. "Locked to assholes. Try again when your head has been removed from your rectum."

Derek shot him a glare that said ‘not pleased with your jokes’. He ratted on the glass with his fist hard enough to make it clear he was going to get in one way or another. And he hoped Stiles will pick the gentler because he was not looking forward to fixing yet another window.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "This is why no one invites you places. You're rude." Stiles took his dear sweet time coming over and unlatching the window. 

“You’re coming to the construction tomorrow.” Derek didn’t waste a moment before jumping into the room. 

"I know you heard me." Stiles crossed his arms and tried to look as stoic and angry as possible. Derek-like... He ended up flailing in irritation. "I am no help anyway!"

“I did not mean that.” The werewolf stepped slowly across the room and closed the door. He turned back to Stiles. “You do help a lot. Always did. I appreciate that.”

"Oh? Did you break something? Seriously, is this your way of saying I need to save your life again?"

Derek frowned. “No. I’m saying my comments were out of lines. About your work, about you... taking clothing off. So are you back on the team tomorrow or not?”

"So I do plenty of work, but you want me to keep my pants on." Stiles sighed at the half-victory. "Sure. I'll be there."

“As much as you want me to keep on my shirt...” The man said to himself.

"What? I do not think those words mean what you think they mean. My policy on Derek shirts are pretty heavily in the 'never' category. That sounds like you want to see me pantsless..."

“Oh I know all about your fascination with my chest. And other stuff. I heard enough from when you...” He trailed off but his eyes slid down Stiles’ torso on his groin. Wrong! Bad Alpha. He was supposed to freak him out and apologize, not give more ammunition.

"From when... HA!" Stiles poked a finger into Derek's sternum. "I knew it! Creeper wolf. I knew you were listening to me at night. You were listening to me jerk off. You were listening to my mumbling. Dirty. Why did you just listen? We could have been doing 'other stuff' this whole time!"

Derek’s head snapped up. “You were a kid. Still are. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

"Excuse you. I am 19 and in college. That's a year over statutory. And of course I know what I'm saying. Let me put it into wolf for you." Stiles smirked and took a step closer to close his hand over Derek's package. "I want to lick all of you and hump until the sun rises."

The Alpha sucked in a breath, the smell radiating from Stiles was intoxicating.

"But you were mean to me... Always mean to me, keeping your shirt on and all. I think I'm going to make you leave. Shoo, Derek. I will see you tomorrow. You had better think of ways to make it up to me." Stiles' smile was pure evil.

Derek’s jaw hung down. What a fucking tease! Oh, he was going to think of ways to make it up, alright. The man stared menacingly at Stiles, not wavering against the lopsided victory grin he was being given. With a one last snarl he disappeared into the night.

~~~

The next day Derek was prepared. 

When the jeep with his betas and one willing human stopped before the ever transforming mansion, Derek walked out shirtless before the house, stretched his arms above his head and went back inside.

"Bastard." Stiles breathed in the jeep. 

The betas glanced and Scott's nose wrinkled as the lust washed from Stiles over to him. "Me and the pack are going to start on the... back of the house. You go tell Derek."

"Scott! No, that's not fair. He's an asshole. You can't leave me along with him!" Stiles watched the pack abandon him with dismay. "Betrayal! Dammit..."

Stiles stomped toward the Hale house where a shirtless and STRETCHING Derek had been. "I hate you so much."

“Oh, hello, Stilinski. Glad to see you here. Friendly and helpful as always.” Derek flashed a grin reserved for young female police officers. “Wanna start on changing wallpaper in the living room?”

Stiles hated that smile the first time he saw it. It was devastating and had never been offered to him. Well... until now. "Wallpaper..."

“Yeah. I thought we could refresh the room a little bit. Is there a problem?” The man walked further into the house, trusting Stiles will follow, and started on the job. All furniture was already shuffled away from the walls as if the room was prepared just for them. Derek unrolled the first scroll, a light green wallpaper with pinkish floral design and straightened it against the wall.

"Ugh... we are working? Seriously? I thought that was code for making you wallpaper the wall with your cum when I mount you. We're doing real work? I loathe your werewolf ass, shirtless or not." Stiles stomped forward and grabbed the straight tool and plaster to stick and smooth the edges.

Derek snorted and moved a little to make place for the other man. He sniffed at Stiles as he applied the glue and smiled knowing the scent well. “I’m just being nice to you, aren’t I? That’s what you wanted.”

"Nice." Stiles snorted and let his hand 'slip' with the paste, applying it to Derek's stomach. "Oops. My concentration is shit today for some completely unknown reason."

Derek glared, dropping the wallpaper. It rolled back with a smack. The man run fingers through the sticky substance with a wince and looked around for his shirt to wipe it off. “Yeah. Total accident I guess.”

"Absolutely." Stiles smirked and moved to hold the wallpaper back up. He watched the side of Derek's body turn toward his eyes. He could map all of the smaller muscles curving around his ribs and watch the pull of skin under his arm as he reached forward for a rag. Evil... completely evil. "I am not going to masturbate to you. Just to punish you."

Derek threw him a glance before starting on cleaning himself up. “Be my guest.” He said with carefully measured dose of indifference.

Stiles huffed at Derek. "Just stick the wallpaper, bastard."

“As you wish,” Derek smiled again, the very image of compliance.

~~~

"He was a jerkwad!" Stiles complained into his phone as he collapsed down into his chair at home. "He did the whole room without his shirt with that stupid stony expression. What the fuck is that? I thought it was finally sexy time. And he was just... ugh! That's not enough words for what he was."

“I know, dude, Isaac’s an asshole.” Scott’s voice came over the phone.

"Isaac? Isaac had his shirt off? Why do I miss everything!" Stiles huffed. "No, Derek. We wallpapered the living room, remember?"

“Oh. Derek? Well, I guess that makes more sense.” Scott’s voice drifted off and Stiles could tell the man was nodding by the shuffling noises. “I never thought you’d have problems with finding words to describe Hale. They're usually lots and really... colorful.”

"All I can think of is ‘cock-tease’ and ‘constipated’. Not a fun visual combination." Stiles chair creaked as he leaned back as far as he could without falling. "Is it me? Like I know I'm not the best looking but hey I'm decent enough, right? Annoying is more of a cute charming thing, right? Scott, is this me?"

“Yeah, totally. Hey, if there’s one person to do this, then I can’t think of a better candidate.”

"For what? Annoying Derek to death? How is sex that hard to come by? He was all ready when he came to me last night. What am I supposed to do, wait for him to swoop in and take me? I am not Scarlet O'Hara. Hell, Scarlet ran after Ashley. No way screw that I am Rhet Butler and he's Scarlet." Stiles' metaphors ran away with him.

“Dude, I could never imagine you in a dress. I’m trying right now and it just doesn’t work. So you’re a butler?”

"No, Rhet. The man of men. He who tamed and then inflamed the wild Scarlet. He needs a strong hand in his life who wants him to be wild as the wind and adores him for being nothing like a lady and I will be no gentleman! That's it! I need to carry him up the stairs and impregnate him!" Stiles grabbed his jacket and keys and condoms and started to rush down the stairs to get to his car.

“Stiles...? Stiles?! Who's pregna...” Scott’s concerned voice cut off with a push of red button.

~~~

_Dear Diary, AKA phone, aka I hate Derek app, aka alibi_

_So Derek was a dick, an attractive metaphorical dick, not an actual physical dick. That might have actually been fun! Nooo, he has to go and make it the same thing as always now with new added stony disposition. Or would that be a return of the old stony disposition. Whatever. STONE._

_So here I am. At the Hale house. Thankfully none of the locks were installed yet._

_Derek, I am coming for you._

~~~

Derek heard him from a mile away. The wolf grinned to himself and stripped from all clothings on his way to the shower.

Stiles checked the bed first. Why, oh, why did he think Derek would actually be in a real bed. He was probably skulking about somewhere fake fainting to get the attention of suitors. Seriously, the analogy had to stop or he would be terribly disappointed Derek wasn't in a hoop skirt and calling Peter 'Mammie'. 

Stiles heard the shower (that he had put in... well, supervised at least) running. He pushed open the door, letting it slam against the wall. 

"Derek! Prepare to be seduced!"

Derek shoved the curtains aside and stepped out of the shower without hurry. “Stiles, you look shaken. Is everything alright?” He asked in the most concerned tone reaching for a towel.

"Seriously!" Stiles flailed both at the calmness and at the naked body. It was hot. So hot. It was all... wet. And dripping. And as Derek reached out he could see a droplet fall from his underarm hair and caress down the line of his side. "No. Done. I am done. One thousand million percent done. Stop it with the calm. The calm is not helping!"

“So you’d rather see me angry? Upset? Stressed?” Derek tapped the towel lightly over his chest with a curiosity written on his face, as if he was searching for the right word.

"How about horny with a side of sexual frustration. That is really what I'm going for but I'll also take longing, desire, and uncontrollable need to confess your undying devotion." Stiles quipped.

Derek chuckled and tossed his towel into the bin. The next second Stiles’ back connected with a wall as Derek lifted him up from the ground. “That’s enough of uncontrollable for you?” His lips brushed over Stiles’ as he whispered.

"Shhhh. Kiss me instead of talking." Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek's hips... or at least he tried. He ended up with on leg over a hip and the other on the floor jammed between Derek's legs. Hello, hardon. He pressed his mouth to Derek's to give the man a practical demonstration. 

Derek licked across the man’s lips and dodged the kiss. “Just like that? No seducing after all?” He smirked, dropping Stiles back on the ground to get a better grip on the man and carry him to the bedroom.

"Stiles Stilinski school of seduction. Step 1, realize hot person is nearby. Step 2, annoy the fuck out of that person. Step 3, tell them they should have sex with me... Step 6, profit." Stiles clung like a limpet to Derek as he was hoisted.

Derek laughed as he held the man. “Did it work on anyone beside me?” he said and dropped Stiles on his -new- bed before the man could reply.

Stiles oofed as he hit the mattress. It was shockingly comfy. He would have never pegged Derek for going with a mattress and feather-top. "Nope, but in my defense there's not a wide range of opportunities when your bestfriend is a new werewolf."

“Good.” Derek crawled after Stiles on the bed, resting his weight on his arms and knees and trapping the thinner man beneath him. “I’d hate to think there’s someone else who makes you smell like this.”

"Like frustration and lust? That's all you, baby." Stiles teased to cover his rapidly speeding heart. Having Derek looming over him was only going to increase his needs. "Fuck, Derek. Going to ravage me? The whole you preditor, me prey? I'm game."

Derek chuckled leaning over the other man. “I’m the predator? Funny. Because I’ve never bursted into somebody’s house through a window to demand sexual favors.”

"I have commented before about your lack of creativity, haven't I?" Stiles grinned and wiggled trying to flip them. "I invaded, I'm the predator. Now flip over! Ravishing is necessary."

Derek laughed with amusement and dropped on his back on the bed, laying arms over his head; his damp skin stretching over hard muscles. He smirked at the fascination drafting on Stiles’ face. “So you want to try this ravishing thing or go back to cuddles and kisses?” He snipped.

Stiles licked his lips. His tongue got stuck at the side of his mouth pinched between teeth as he let his eyes roam the tableau of skin and muscle under him. He was at a loss for words as it struck him that the man under him was now his for the taking, his for the touching, and for the licking. 

"Oh fuck...." Stiles bent in and started on the dip of Derek's belly button. He licked it and spread his lips across the tight muscles of his stomach.

Derek smiled and sighed happily watching the head bob over the expanse of his abdomen. It’s been... years since he had a time for a slow exploration that didn’t have to hurry into release. His hand settled on Stiles’ neck, brushing his short prickly hair.

Stiles took the touch as encouragement. He pressed warm open-mouth kisses up the side of Dere's chest, stopping to lick the underside of Derek's jumping pec.

Derek moaned softly, enjoying where this was going. His fingers played with Stiles’ ear and hair at the back of his head. “You sure you’re okay with this? Wanna speed up?”

"Nope. I want to go just this speed. I'm gonna lick everywhere." He snickered as he moved around toward Derek's side again, his tongue tracing the top of his pectoral into his outter armpit. Fuck, did Derek smell good. It was warm and musky and so fucking masculine. Stiles lost himself for a moment and nuzzled right into the warm curve.

Derek sucked in a breath and held his arm up behind his head for Stiles to devour. He wasn’t usually so passive in bed, but something about the other man made him want to just lay back and allow himself to be taken care off. 

Stiles smirked and licked up across Derek's bicep and took a hard bite into the flesh. "You should flex. Just a suggestion."

Derek grinned and tensed the muscles in his arm, letting the biceps bulge and skin stretch over his axilla. The sound that came out of Stiles mouth was filthy. 

"You are just... Oh my God..." He babbled and licked his way back down. His teeth bit into the thick sinew of connecting muscle where Derek's bicep tucked under his shoulder cap. Stiles figured he must be part werewolf, at least a little bit super distantly. He would swear he just caught a whiff of arousal off of Derek. "Fuck, why are you so nnn."

“And you’re so eloquent.” Derek smirked but his tone was too breathy to convey the sarcasm anymore. His other hand tightened around Stiles’ neck and scratched a path of skin when he arched under the man’s teeth. 

Stiles laughed, a giddy mixture of sex and joy. His breath puffed hotly over the now damp hair. They were ridiculous, still fussing and jabbing into each other while finally getting their act of ultimate sexiness on. He had imagined Derek coming to him drugged on catnip-style wolfsbane, or after a terrible battle covered in blood, or rough and demanding... Hell, he'd imagined Derek crying in his arms before sucking him off once. Stiles pet his long fingers along the jumping deltoids, over the raised nipple, teasingly over the unattended oxter, around the point of Derek's elbow and finally to his lover's hand. He slid his fingers to slot between the claw-tipped ones and squeezed.

"Mine."

Derek breathed out a shattered sigh. His family was gone, his memories of them grew foggy with every passing year, his whole world was being deconstructed and rebuilt with help of his pack. But in the midst of the chaos Derek felt... he belonged. His claw closed around Stiles’ hand for a moment, slowly and carefully. “Mine.”

Stiles was not moving that hand! Never. He could die holding Derek's hand and that would be just fine and dandy... well, provided it happened after orgasms. He was kind of invested in orgasms. 

Stiles shifted so he was laying over Derek's amazing body. His tented pants rubbed against a thick and clearly happy Derek-bulge. He wiggled and was rewarded with a moan. He tried thrusting into the body below him. Lo and behold, another moan. He wiggled sideways and sure enough the same pleasured sound came from his lover. Stiles could already feel his brain jumping forward with ideas of what he should do. A lot of them involved ropes. 

"Pants go away."

“Mhmpf,” Derek agreed eagerly. He sat up willing his claws away. They disappeared after a moment of persuasion. As always, Stiles could make him lose control in the best ways. Derek grabbed the other man’s pants and tugged them down hurriedly to help him get free of the completely unnecessary piece of clothing. Offensive, no-good pants.

"No pants parties are the best." Stiles kicked them to the floor, not surprised to find Derek had taken down his boxers with them. He hooked a finger and tugged his socks. They went flying across Derek's bedroom, likely never to be seen again. "Victory!" 

The moment Stiles’ pants and underwear were off, Derek grabbed him from behind, turned and pinned to the bed, shoring himself on his arms on both sides of Stiles’ head. The muscles strained supporting his weight.

Stiles hands danced over Derek. He didn't seem able to decide what bit of the man should be touched first. Stiles' eyes focused on Derek's lips. They were smiling. Decision made. He arched off the bed to bite them. He tugged and only released when he either had to let go, or take a piece with him. "So... What do... What next. I have lots of things I want to do with you. But... What next?"

“Next...” Derek faltered. He glanced at the nightstand, then back at Stiles. The smaller man would probably expect him to top, wouldn’t he? Derek bit his lip debating the option. “Maybe... you- I could- Ihaverequiredsupplies.” He threw in one breath staring down at Stiles’ with big puppy eyes.

How could he not cool at that? "Awww. You were so planning this." He accused with a snort. "Me too. I've got like 5 condoms in my pocket. Not that I'm suggesting we use five of them tonight. You want to top? Or I can... or just rubbing or blowjobs or... Seriously, I'm up for dry humping too. Anything."

“You would...?” Derek couldn’t hide the relieved surprise. He reached for Stiles’ cock, laying on his abdomen heavy and red, and he wrapped his wide hand around. “Because I’d fucking love to have this filling my ass.”

So Stiles had expected to go all 'grr I'm the alpha, I do the penetrating!'. Fuck, was he glad he asked. "Yes. Yes, yes, fuck yes! You have the most beautiful ass."

Derek grinned and leaned back on his heels to reach the nightstand. “I see you got some taste, Stilinski.”

"I am a connoisseur of fine buttage. Your derriere is only second to your delish underarms. Well... Your pecs are sort of out of this world too. And then there's your adorable rabbit teeth. And your eyebrows have to be in the top three I have ever seen. And that's including celebrities." Stiles took the chance to push himself up and lick the line of his pec until it met with his underarm. Stiles was seriously considering designating this part his personal playland. Derek tasted so fucking good. 

“Goddamn. You really thought about it.” Derek smirked, not used to dealing with so many compliments per minute. He pulled the bottle of lube and condoms from his stand and dropped them on the bed to haul Stiles up for a kiss.

"I think about every th....mmm" Stiles was muffled by Derek lips and that was a-okay with him. 

Their lips slid against each other without hurry. Derek gently pushed Stiles down without breaking the kiss and moved to lay beside him. Thinking better of it, he dropped on his back and situated his arms under his head, displaying himself like a prize.

"You are gonna kill me." Stiles praised as he was presented with every thing Derek had been blessed with. He was fucking amazing. Every muscle stood out without being distended, every curve was perfect, every inch of skin was smooth and for his taking. His...

Stiles pressed a gentle coated finger in a circle around Derek's ass. "Thank you..."

Derek snorted out a laugh. “Believe me, I’m getting as much out of this as you.” To emphasize his point, he lifted his ass off the mattress giving him better access. 

Stiles whimpered at the feel of his fingertip slipping into the ring. "Awesome. Just, you’re awesome. And totally mine." 

Stiles pressed his finger inside as Derek's muscles started to loosen. He distracted himself by leaning in to lick from hard nipple along the edge of his underhair. 

“More.” Derek pleaded in a whisper. He kept his arm still and ready for exploration as his other one embraced the man, hand resting on Stiles’ neck, thumb tracing the jaw. 

"Fuck." Stiles did his best to stretch Derek before daring to think of pressing his cock in. Stiles knew the kind of bad-pain going in rough was. He'd had a night or two where he tried to rush himself with a toy. "You want me in you?"

“No, why don’t we take a break?” Derek growled. “Jesus fuck, Stiles.” He did his best to push at the fingers inside him. “I’ll be fine, I swear.”

"Hey, hey, don't flash those fangs at me. I don't want to hurt you."

“I know...” His head hit the pillow in desperation. “Just do it, okay?” 

"Derek... I have all the time in the world for you. So no. I'm not going to go in you if it's going to hurt. Healing or no." Stiles staunchly stilled his fingers.

“Are you trying to make me beg?” The wolf’s fingertips thickened into claws. 

"I'm trying to take care of you!"

“You’re doing a bang up job about it. If death by overstimulation is your final goal.”

"It might be. I have lots of plans." He smiled and spread his fingers wide as they slid out finally. "Condoms, in my pants." 

Derek whined in frustration. Was he supposed to remember what is a pants? He jolted up, catching Stiles between his legs and kissing him roughly. His hands tightened on the man’s shoulders, Derek had barely enough self control left to remember to keep his claws in.

Stiles rabbited into Derek's hand. Condoms, what were condoms? All he knew was the heat of Derek's hand and the even greater heat he would feel inside. His mouth opened to Derek, letting the wolf dominate his mouth while he blindly tried to find Derek's ass.

The feel of fingertips grazing his hole was too much. Derek shoved Stiles down on the mattress, eyes glowing, and crawled over the bed to retrieve rubbers from the man’s pockets. The bottle of lube was squished in half as he tried to oil up Stiles’ cock. “I swear, Stiles, if you stop now...”

"No stopping. I promise." He was on his back and he realized he didn't have a favorite angle of Derek naked. They were all fucking amazing. "Ride me?"

“No?” The man rutted his hips into Stiles’ groin. “Oh, come on, you want me to do the whole job on my own?”

"Seeing your body move up and down on me? Yes. Want. Please?" He arched under the damned tease. 

“Damn...” The man grunted without any real malice and moved up Stiles’ body, gripping his cock at the base before he began sinking on it. The head pried his rim open, blunt and hard against the sensitive flesh. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Derek. Tight. Jesus, fuck!" Both hands gripped Derek's thighs. "You okay? That's really tight."

“I can... heal... later...” He gritted out. His hips rolled over Stiles’ back and forth, sinking down inch by inch on his length.

"Holy shit." Stiles hands gripped into Derek's flexing legs. "Are... Do you like this? I don't... You're hurting, you have to be."

“I’ll be fine.” The man sat on Stiles’ pelvis with a shattered sigh. The stretch burned, but nowhere strong enough to make him stop. He lifted himself with a grunt and angled his hips forward to feel the press of cock against his prostate. “That’s what you wanted all along, isn’t it? Just look, I can barely keep myself in check. This is all you,” he rasped out driving the shaft back inside.

"Derek." The moan held a tone of worry. He liked their teasing and their play-fighting, but this wasn't just an extension of that aspect. This was something more. Stiles wanted it to be more playful and less rough. More teasing and less of the harshness that dominated every other aspect of pack life. He pushed up and grabbed Derek behind the neck and clenched. It worked on puppies, he really hoped it would work on the alpha. 

"No. I don't want you to push yourself and prove you are willing to sacrifice your own comfort for my wants. I want to make love to and with you. You have a wealth of opportunities to take arrows and gunshots and other painful projectiles all in my name, but, right now, I am trying to make you sacrifice your smiles and blushes and other expressions of joy. Let me love you. Please?"

“But...” But this was supposed to hurt and burn him alive leaving pink scars of memories in the morning. That way it would mean something. That way it would mean they would both remember and treasure the reminiscence of this night. Panic spiked up inside Derek’s head. He wasn’t sure if he was able to do what was asked from him.

"Derek, talk to me for a second. This... This isn't one time, right? It's not just cat and mouse and then the wolf finds a different prey to fuss with and then.... Okay, I'm not making much sense but... Is this just rough sex or..." Stiles hands flailed. 

Derek was quiet for a moment. Then he said quietly. “You’re not a mouse.”

"Then... What am I. I mean we... What do you want?" He cupped both of Derek's cheeks, trying to still his jerking movements. His fingers drummed on Derek's stubbly chin.

He rolled his hips in silent response, the picked up movement beating a rhythm. You. This. Beginning. His long arms extended on both sides of Stiles’ head, providing balance. Derek thrust himself on the shaft without previous franticness but with the same determination.

Stiles pushed himself up with one hand and wrapped the other around Derek's back. This was different, it felt like love-making. The rough hard sex was definitely something to explore much later, but this was the first time. He kissed at Derek in little pecks on his cheeks and neck.

Derek’s face hid in the crook of Stiles’ neck. The kind of scent the male emitted could make him crazy in normal circumstances. Now it played on his senses, driving new peaks of pleasure with every moment. He bared his teeth and grazed the pulse, the instincts screaming to bite into his mate.

"Derek." Stiles thrust up, taking up the pulsing beat inside Derek. His lips found their way to Derek's raised shoulder. He nipped at the joint. "Your teeth. If you bite me with fangs I am not going to let you live it down. Just imagine how much more annoying I could be with superpowers."

Derek chuckled but it sounded pained. “No fangs, promise.” He licked a path from the base of Stiles’ throat until his ear.

"Mhmmmm." Stiles moaned low as he was taken by Derek's tongue and the tightness. "Not gonna last long."

The answering grunt said all about Derek’s stance on the matter. The man pushed himself on Stiles’ faster, spreading knees to drive the cock deeper inside.

"Derek. Derek. Derek." He chanted as his hips lost rhythm in Derek. Panting and flushed on every part of his chest, Stiles came. 

Derek roared. He clung to the smaller body shuddering by him and broke into a frenzied rutting desperate to get off before the softening cock would be of no use. His teeth sunk into Stiles’ shoulder when climax hit him.

Okay that hurt. Stiles cringed. Seriously, the whole sexy shoulder bite was a totally lie. It HURT. But maybe that was a werewolf thing. There were no fangs, but flat human teeth left indentations. His head fell against the bed with a yelp.

Derek slid off the cock, too spent to care about disposing condom. It should be Stiles’ thing to worry about anyway. He dropped on the bed, only now noticing the bruise he put on the man’s pale skin. “I’m sorry.”

"Hazards of loving a werewolf with a neck fetish." Stiled grinned and carefully took care of the condom. 

“Neck fetish...?” The wolf casually folded arms under his head, letting the damp with sweat muscles stretch against the bed sheets. “Curious.”

"Wha...?" Stiles lost his train of thought as he scrambled in his exhausted state to get cuddled right under Derek's arm in the furred curve he was now allowed to touch. 

“That’s what I thought,” Derek chuckled. 

~~~

"Look, Derek. A real kitchen! And a real sofa with a real livingroom wall." Stiles bounced around the finished and furnished Hale house in a state of elation. 

Only a year of work on all of their weekends and a few minor meltdowns (and a Yeti) and the Hale house was complete. The entire pack (with a few new additions from various life threatening adventures) was gathered around the huge flatscreen T.V. that had come because of Isaac's big green eyes. Popcorn was being consumed and a movie was being booted up.

"You know what would be super awesome? We should build a pool. It can be our project starting this summer break!"

Derek groaned from over his seat. “Right. Because why should we just enjoy some break from working when we can fiddle in mud.”

"Exactly! And then, when the pool is built, you can clean off. It will be awesome. And, no more muddy entrance call after pack hunting trips, everyone can just jump in the pool and buh-bye entrail face." Stiles moved to Derek and tugged on his arm to emphasize his grand idea.

"Oh my God, no. Someone smother him." Erika whined and threw her shoe at the human.

Derek caught it before it reached his mate. The piece of footwear fell on the floor bent out of shape the next moment. 

Erica did have a point though. In the corner of his eye, Derek saw Stiles take a new breath and open his mouth to spurt another load of renovating plans. He had to think fast.

“Ahhh,” he yawned and stretched arms above his head. “I think I need coffee,” said Derek but his hands stayed clasped on his neck, displaying the buckling biceps and armpits in all their glory.

"Evil." Stiled breathed as his eyes locked on the glorious expanse of skin and perfectly groomed manly hair. Derek had been sweet enough to ask Stiles' preference. Stiled moved closer and licked his lips. 

~~~

_Dear Diary aka inside cover of my Computer Science 303 notebook aka faithful companion,_

_Today is a glorious day. A day to go down in the record books. It is going to be called Derek Doesn't Die From Exposure to Multiple Stilinski's day. 7 pm, at Casa de Stilinski, Derek is the honored (mandatory) guest for traditional tacos. Also known as the only day I generously allow my dad to bring in tacos from Taco Bell and gorge away on hotsauce. Am I hedging my bet and trying to get dad in a good mood? You betcha. I need any luck I can get when I tell dad that I'm dating and moving in with the resident Alpha that made Dad rewrite the rulebook on arrests pertaining to the supernatural and introducing 'the pixies ate my baby' as a legitimate defense._

_Wish me luck, Derek's here to pick me up in a tank top..._


End file.
